family is priceless
by smileyfacebabe
Summary: Thorin opens the front door, even though Fili's out of town. Tauriel doesn't expect his response.


Author's Note: Someone reviewed my last story and asked why Tauriel was sad. That got me thinking and here is it, _happiness is priceless_ from Tauriel's POV. Enjoy.

Edit: I'm dumb and fixing the inconsistencies with the other stories in the setting ugh.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but cupcakes. Yay cupcakes.

* * *

It was stupid, she was just being stupid, there was nothing actually wrong, but she couldn't shake the feeling, couldn't make it go away. She paced her room, limbs jittery at her sides, feeling like she was being pulled in more directions than she could stand. In the living room down the hall she could hear her foster parents complaining at each other, sniping about their week at work, the government, the city council, nothing but an endless stream of hateful, mean comments about things they couldn't change. It was driving her mad, listening to them talk, but when she had tried to put in music it had just made her more agitated, more twitchy. She needed to get out of the house, she needed to go _do something_. She shoved her feet into her tennis shoes and burst from her room, calling over her shoulder that she was going to Fili's house as she sped through the living room.

"Wait," her foster mother called out sharply. Tauriel skidded to a halt inches from the front door. Her hand trembled, reaching for the door knob. She pulled her arm back to her side and turned around slowly, anxiety building in her gut. Her foster mother was frowning at her, the corners of her mouth pulled down.

"Darling," the woman said. Tauriel had lived with them since she was seven and while most days her foster mother's pet names were soothing, today was not one of those days. "Don't you have school work to do?"

"It's dull," Tauriel answered, trying not to fidget. Her foster mother hated her fidgeting, scolded her for it time and time again. _Hold still,_ she'd snap, exasperation making her voice a pitch higher than usual, _calm down, darling, or you're going to make me lose my mind._ If Tauriel held still for much longer she was going to lose her mind.

"Dull or not, you have to do it," her foster mother said immediately, scowling now. "I don't understand why you think that's a proper excuse for not doing it; when I was your age I hated English class, but I always did my work."

Frustration mounted, adding to the feeling like she was too big for her own skin. Suddenly it was too much; the scowl on her foster mother's face, the scolding, the way her foster father didn't say anything, didn't even look at her. "I said it was dull," Tauriel said, fighting to keep her voice level and polite, "not that I wouldn't do it. I have all of summer to finish it."

"You would have all of summer to relax if you'd just do it now," her foster mother argued. "I don't think you should spend all your time bothering that boy when you have work to do. You're probably just distracting him from his own schoolwork."

"Bothering," Tauriel whispered. It was no secret her foster mother didn't like Fili, but to imply she was _bothering_ Fili with her presence…

"Honey," her foster father said. It wasn't sharp or heated, just steady and quiet. He didn't say anything else, but her foster mother settled down, her mouth a thin line.

"Call if you're staying there for dinner," the woman said, before she turned back to the television without another word. Tauriel felt hollow, anger building in her chest at the woman. She wanted to shout, to make her foster parents understand that she wasn't slacking off, that she wasn't bothering _anyone_ in the Baggins-Durinson household, that she'd tried time and time to make them _proud_ and yet all she got was a thin lipped mother figure and a silent father figure. She whirled, tears pricking in her eyes, and quietly pulled the front door open, shutting it softly behind her. Then she took off at a dead run, arms pumping at her side. There was a scream stuck in her throat, rattling around as she fought to breathe. She ran the twelve blocks to Fili's house without stopping, even when her vision blurred with tears.

It wasn't until she had already knocked her knuckles too hard against the wood of the green painted front door that she remembered Fili was out of town with his family, visiting relative at a lake in the country. She felt like she was going to be sick, already stumbling back a step when the door swung open and revealed Thorin standing there in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Tauriel," Thorin said quietly. She hunched in on herself, pulling her trembling limbs in on herself and curling up a bit.

"Hi," she said, her voice too high. "I'm sorry, never mind," she babbled, the words squishing together, "this was a terrible idea, I'll just-"

"Tauriel," Thorin interrupted. His voice was sharp, but it wasn't nothing like her foster mother's. There was concern on his face, the same concern that flashed across it whenever Kili tripped and fell on his face. "What's wrong," he asked, frowning slightly.

"Nothing," she said, too quick. "Nothing; everything's fine."

Thorin swallowed, a strange intense expression on his face. "Tauriel," he said again, soft and gentle. She shook her head a little bit, the trembling moving from her arms and traveling into the rest of her body until it felt like she was shaking apart at the seams. He stepped forward, hands up in the universal sign of _I mean you no harm_ and Tauriel felt even more tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Suddenly Thorin straightened from his hunched forward reaching position, a sigh slipping from his lips. He ran a hand through his hair, which reached almost to his shoulders, dark and curling. "Look," he said, "I'm miserable at this. If I didn't have Bilbo, well…" He drifted off, a small smile curling the edges of his lips. Tauriel wasn't sure if he was even aware he was smiling, his eyes softer than she'd seem them looks. The unstable feeing in her chest eases a little bit at the sign of affection, so different from the way her foster parents acted. "I'd be a wreck of a parent, that's for sure," he continued, looking straight at her again. "But I'm always up for trying. So if you need something, kid, you're going to have to put it into words, as much as you can."

Tauriel's breath escaped from her, as if it vanished. She stared at the man in front of her, Fili's uncle-turned father, who was staring at her so earnestly, worry on his face, so genuine. Tauriel bristled for a split second, angry that it wasn't one of her own parents staring at her like this, before Thorin's next words stole her fire.

"I promise I'll do my best," he said, lips quirking in an attempt at humor, "though my best may be wretched and awful."

Tauriel's control over her own emotions broke like a dam. She laughed softly, the sound wet and rough, like she was drowning. She opened her mouth to say something only for a sob to come out, catching in her throat and tearing her apart from the inside out. Thorin gave a soft yelp like a kicked dog before he was suddenly around her, cradling her head and holding her close. He had one arm wound around her hip while the other was around her shoulders, his fingers warm and solid against the back of her neck.

"What's wrong? How can I help?"

Tauriel couldn't figure out how words worked anymore, so she shook and buried her face in his shoulder. Thorin didn't press her, seemingly content to simply hold her tightly and give her time to work out her problems. She wound her arms around him, fingers scrambling against the material of his t-shirt.

"Nothing's wrong," she whispered finally. "Nothing's wrong, I'm just-" Frustration at herself building, she pressed her face more firmly against his shoulder and all but screamed, "_I don't know_." She took a rattling breath, everything inside her feeling fractured and dizzy, like a hurricane. "What's wrong with me?"

Thorin's arms tightened around her, almost painfully. It felt nice, to be held so tighty. It felt even better when he snapped, "nothing is wrong with you. _Nothing_. I would not change a single thing about you," he promised, his head bent down until his forehead was against the crown of her head. "Not even in your most stubborn and frustrating times."

Tauriel had to sniffle for a few seconds before she could speak. "Really?"

"Really," Thorin said. He stood there for a second longer, hugging her tight, until he puled away abruptly, hand going to his back pocket. "Call your foster parents," he ordered, holding out his cell phone to her. "Ask if you can come to the country with us. We're not staying with Bilbo's cousins this time, so there's room in the cabin at the lake for you."

Fili had told her Thorin was staying behind a few extra days to attend a meeting at work. She gaped at him a little bit, not taking the phone yet. She asked him quietly if he was sure, mentioning his meeting, but he just grinned.

"Yes, I'm sure. Call them," he insisted, "my meeting was cancelled."

She called her foster father, knowing her foster mother would put up a fuss. It took a lot of pleading, but she was finally allowed to go as long as her homework was finished by the following weekend. Thorin let her pick the music for the trip up, rolling the windows down so that the rare sunshine could settle straight onto her skin. Her foster father hated driving with the windows down, but Thorin waved away her concerns about it being distracting while driving and told her to turn the music up. FIli and Kili had been coming back from the lake as they pulled up and they rushed the car when they spotted them. Both of them wrapped her in a wet messy hug, clutching her as if they hadn't seen her in weeks instead of days.


End file.
